


make it through it all (fall to pieces)

by orphan_account



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M, Jossed, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can't do the sane thing because he's too busy trying to do the right thing. (or: the one where Kensi gets shot and Deeks isn't particularly good at dealing.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	make it through it all (fall to pieces)

**Author's Note:**

> this one was fun. title from the song by avril lavigne.

The bullet hits and everyone forgets how to breathe.

The bullet hits and nobody can move or think or do a damn thing. Nell's hands are clamped over her mouth, and Eric looks abruptly nauseated. Sam and Callen are statues: no motion, no thought, soundless horror. Even Hetty looks... not quite shaken, but certainly alarmed.

Nobody notices that Deeks is moving until the door to the van slams shut.

-

"KENSI!" He's making a mistake and he can tell, he shouldn't do this, this is a fucking hostage situation, but it's Kensi. It's Kensi and there's a bullet in her and he can't, he can't stay away, he can't do the sane thing because he's too busy trying to do the right thing.

He vaults the police barrier and runs for the bank, because it's Kensi. Goddammit, why had they let her go in, why had they done that, why hadn't they let him instead-

Behind him, he can hear Callen shouting at him. Too far away, wrong side of the barrier, because he needs to get to her. It's stupid and pointless, and he'd watched her fall and he could hear the shot from inside the surveillance van and it'd killed him, it had fucking killed him. Because it's Kensi, and that makes all the difference in the world.

He's running, he has his own weapon halfway out when another shot cracks out, and he freezes. Gives himself enough time to spit out a curse and then runs like he's never run before.

-

"Remember, Getter will only shoot if you provoke him, so-"

Kensi gave Deeks a withering look, pulling her ponytail out of the way as he strapped her vest on. "I've done hostage negotiation before, Deeks, and I've been on this case, same as you."

He smiled, although that was essentially the opposite of how he felt. "What, I can't be worried about my partner?"

"You can worry all you want, but you should save your energy." She began checking her buckles, tightening straps, and one hand landed on the handle of her gun. "I'll be fine."

Suddenly Deeks's throat felt thick, and he had to slap down the automatic rush of but what if you're not in order to smile a little wider. "I know you will."

Kensi smiled, and it was probably the softest he'd ever seen her look. She brushed some loose hair behind her ear and then - and then she ran her hand through his hair, rested it on the back of his neck. "Hey," she said quietly, and God, he loved her, he loved her so much and she'd never take him seriously, she'd always think he's joking, but he loved her. "Stop looking like that. I'm coming back."

He didn't even think about it as he settled his hand on her wrist, fingers closing. His thumb brushed over her pulse, and she was alive, and he loved her. "I know," he repeated. "It's my job to worry about you."

Her fingers curled into his hair. "Your job as my partner?"

Before he could answer, Callen yelled for Kensi, and they both dropped their hands like they'd been burned. She gave him one last smile before striding towards the barricade with all the confidence in the world, and Deeks was left with words stuck on his tongue, trying impossibly hard not to say my job as someone who loves you.

-

Deeks crashes through the bank doors, and sixteen out of nineteen heads turn to face him. The only three that ignore him are Kensi, the man kneeling over her, and the dead criminal on the floor.

"Kensi," he gasps, and he wants to laugh and cry as her head rolls towards him. There's blood on her neck and in her hair and she looks exhausted and furious but she's alive, alive, alive.

"Deeks," she rasps out, ignoring the disapproving look from the man kneeling over her. He looks like a doctor, on closer inspection, and he has what looks like a balled-up jacket pressed to her shoulder. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I," he says, because really, he doesn't know how to explain it. "I just needed to be sure."

And unbelievably, un-fucking-believably, she just rolls her eyes. "I told you," she says, simple and honest. "I'm coming back."

"I knew that," he says, and unbelievably, he laughs - a short, choked mockery of a laugh, but still a laugh - and crosses the floor of the bank to kneel by her not-shot shoulder. "So that second shot was you, right?"

"Yep." Kensi smiles, eyes flicking over to Andrew Getter, who really looks better with a bullet in his head. "Hurt like hell, though. Don't shoot when shot."

"Don't get shot," Deeks suggests. There's a little hiccup to his voice, a crack in his calm, and he doesn't really like it, doesn't like the idea that his voice is betraying him. He nearly tries to make a joke, even opens his mouth, then just closes it and grabs her right hand, her good hand. "God, Kensi," he says, just as the doors bang open again. He knows without looking that it's Callen. "He's dead. Call an ambulance.

For a moment, Callen doesn't move. There's no rustle of clothes or, hell, no sign that he's even breathing. Then he sighs heavily, and Deeks can imagine the line of his shoulders relaxing, the tension bleeding out just a fraction at the sight of two living agents. "Goddammit, Deeks, you can't just do that."

"I couldn't not," Deeks answers. It really doesn't make sense, except for the part that it does, it does perfectly. Kensi squeezes his hand, and he smiles down at her. I love you, he thinks. "Thank God he hit your shoulder," he says, and even though that's not what he means, it's true.

-

"I can talk to him," Kensi said, and Deeks could feel his heart turn to stone and sink. "You can send me in, and I'll negotiate."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, but he looked open to the idea, and that was a bad sign. "You don't have to."

"I know Getter," she insisted. "He was my friend, a long time ago, remember?"

"But that could make it dangerous," Deeks said. He could tell that she would hate him if it worked, but he didn't care. "Emotional attachment, that could cloud your judgment, you know. I can go in, I've done hostage negotiation before-"

"But I know him," Kensi argued, and yeah, he's going down hard. "He'll listen to me, and if he won't, I can shoot."

"You're sure about this?" Callen asked, and dammit, damn it all, because she nodded, and Deeks could tell that there was just one last gate to crash through.

"Very well," Hetty said, and that was it. Finished. "Ms. Blye, if you're sure you can negate the situation, you have permission to go in. Go talk to Mr. Beale and Ms. Jones about equipment."

Kensi nodded again, short and sharp, and Deeks wanted to punch something. He knew Kensi could handle herself, but that wasn't the problem he had. He was just scared at the idea of her going into an enclosed space with an armed psychopath - and hell, that was reasonable, wasn't it? He didn't want his partner to get hurt.

"Mr. Deeks," Hetty said from at his elbow, and he nearly jumped a foot in the air. She smiled slightly. "Go help Ms. Blye prepare. Get her a vest. Help her put it on, if you like."

And of course Hetty knew what was bothering him. It was Hetty. She could see through anything he tried, and maybe that was why she was the best leader he'd ever worked under.

"Yeah," he managed. He could do that. He could help make sure that his partner would be safe.

-

Deeks gets yelled at a lot.

Well, no, that's not entirely accurate. Callen and Sam join forces and curse him out, berate how stupid he is, and he takes it because they're right to be angry. Nell shoots him nervous looks when he's sentenced to imprisonment in the surveillance van, and he takes the imprisonment because he's right to be stuck, and he takes the looks because she's right to worry. Eric stonewalls him and doesn't look over once, and he takes that because he's right to be furious.

He almost loses it when Callen insists on riding in the ambulance and Sam insists that Deeks stays behind, until one of them says something about how they want him where they can see him, and all the fight goes out of him. Because God, he hadn't even thought of it like that. He hadn't thought about getting himself shot. He feels sick at the thought of Sam running into the bank instead, or Callen, or the thought of any one of them dying. He hadn't thought about them, only Kensi.

So he deals with all the crap he gets, because honestly, he deserves it. He helps Nell and Eric research, he helps Sam fill out paperwork, he helps LAPD with Getter's body, he gives his statement, he does everything he can where someone can see him. He keeps busy and he stays obedient, because it keeps him going. He can deal with having something to do.

It's hours later and Deeks is exhausted, but the day isn't over. He has to go see Kensi. She's out of surgery - he knows because Callen had texted him when she went in, and when she got out - and she's stable, and she's conscious, and really, thank God for that. He wouldn't have been able to cope with complications.

"Mr. Deeks," Hetty says, materializing out of goddamn nowhere as Hetty is wont to do. "Visiting hours at the hospital end soon. May I suggest that you leave now?"

"Yeah," Deeks says, finally letting himself relax just a little. He hasn't really had the chance to - he's been trying so hard to be good and obedient and apologize. But this is Hetty. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea." His hand drops to his pocket automatically, and he begins fishing for his keys, and turns away.

"Mr. Deeks," Hetty says again, and he freezes, because this is what he's been waiting for. He hasn't seen Hetty since she suggested he help Kensi get ready, and she hasn't had a chance to break his ass down. Not that he doesn't totally deserve it, but it's something he'd rather avoid.

"Yes, Hetty?" he sighs, and steels himself for the beatdown. Which, of course, because it's Hetty, he's totally wrong.

"As... admirable as it is that you jumped in to help Ms. Blye, next time, you should consider waiting in the van until we know that there's no armed criminal waiting." Hetty smiles, just a little, just enough to put him at ease and set him on edge all at once. "After all, one agent in there was more than I was comfortable with."

And that hits him hard all over again, because Hetty has lost so many agents. She's probably had dozens of her best and brightest get shot or blown up or drowned. He can't imagine how she does it - how she can soldier on and still send her team into danger. She must trust them immeasurably, he decides. Trust them to do their job well enough that they make it back.

"Okay," Deeks says. He can hardly breathe, because today has just been sucker punch after sucker punch. "Yeah, I. I won't."

"Because next time, you may find yourself back in LAPD, and God knows none of us want that," she finishes, and then looks at him expectantly.

"Not at all," he agrees promptly. "I'm going to-" he holds up his car keys and nods lamely. "Yeah. Thanks for, ah, not biting my head off. Not that you don't have the right."

Hetty smiles, a real smile this time. "Of course, Mr. Deeks."

On his way out, he is absolutely certain to tap Sam on his shoulder and tell him where he's going, and to text Callen, and to stick his head in the surveillance van to say goodbye to Nell and Eric. Deeks isn't positive, but he thinks something about this whole situation really scared them both, because Nell gives him a hug and Eric can barely look at him. But he thinks they both know how hard he's trying. He thinks that's all he can ask for right now.

-

"This man-" Eric tapped something on his tablet, and a fuzzy security camera picture appeared on the wall- "has robbed four banks in the Los Angeles area. One every other day for the last eight days. His last hit was yesterday."

"He never hits the same part of town twice," Nell added. A map of Los Angeles popped up, with four red dots. "No way to tell what's next."

"We have under a day to figure out where he's hitting or who he is?" Deeks said dubiously. They'd all worked some pretty hard cases, but this one didn't seem particularly... possible.

"Is there more?" Callen asked, eyes solidly fixed on the camera picture.

"We have his voice," Nell said. "Part of his MO is calling the police at every bank and pretending to be a hostage. We have the 911 call logs, but there's only so far that takes us."

"Play it," Sam said. Eric tapped his stylus a couple times, and then the audio began.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Help!" a man's voice gasped, sounding more forced than actually panicked. "I'm at Central American Bank, and we're being held up! I don't know what to do, he has a gun-"

"Oh my God," Kensi whispered, sounding horrified. Deeks glanced at her, alarmed, and she looked pale as a sheet. "That's Andrew Getter."

"What?" Sam demanded. Everyone had their eyes solidly locked on her.

She cleared her throat. "Andrew Getter," she repeated. "I - we went on a couple of dates, a while ago, and I knew him when we were in school. He kind of always talked like that. I think he had a lisp. But - God, that sounds exactly like him."

"Did he have any priors?" Callen asked. Nell and Eric were already working furiously, typing and tapping away.

Kensi rolled her eyes, although there was no heart in it. "I wouldn't date him if he did. I checked."

"You do background checks on your dates?" Deeks snorted. "Another reason that this-" he motioned between them- "isn't happening." He promptly winced mentally. Open mouth, insert foot.

Now Kensi glared at him, but there was actual heat, and a little more color in her cheeks. "You mean other than the fact that I'm way out of your league?"

"You're not good enough to be in my league," he sniped back. This - this was better, this was comfortable. Kensi even looked like she'd come back to earth.

"Andrew Getter," Eric announced, and a picture popped up on the screen. Kensi swallowed visibly, and without even thinking Deeks shifted his weight so he was leaning towards her. "This is him?"

"That's him," she confirmed.

"Run the camera stills through facial recognition," Sam ordered, slipping into leadership easily. "Kensi, are you comfortable with interviewing him?"

"I'm afraid there's no time for that," Hetty said from the doorway. Everyone turned to her, surprised. "The thief has struck a day early. He has sixteen hostages, and he will not negotiate with the police." The hint of a smile appeared on her face. "Which we are not. Mr. Beale, Ms. Jones, you will be coming along in the surveillance van. Bring whatever you need to feel comfortable." She glanced at the picture of Andrew Getter on the screen. "He has decided to forgo the mask this time. This is indeed our criminal."

Kensi sucked in a deep breath, looking pale again, and Deeks elbowed her lightly in the ribs. "I think you need to improve your taste in men. I can think of someone..."

She elbowed him back, hard enough to knock some of the wind out of his sails. "I think you need lower standards," she answered sweetly. "You'd be disappointed less often." With that, she turned to walk away.

"I was talking about a buddy of mine! He's in for jaywalking, you'd get along great!" Deeks called after her, but he was grinning, and really, if he could make her feel better, it was worth her flipping him off.

-

Kensi is sitting up in bed watching TV when Deeks gets to her room. Her left arm is in a sling, and her right hand is on the remote. When she sees him, her face breaks into a tired smile, and he feels something pull inside of his chest.

"Hey," he says softly, sitting in the chair by her side. "Other than getting shot, how're you doing?"

She laughs, and she sounds damn exhausted. "Damn exhausted," she says, and his lips twitch into a smile. "But, I'm alive, so I'm not inclined to complain."

"That makes two of us, then," he replied, and then glances at the television. "Food Network, huh? You're resorting to Food Network?"

Kensi shoves at him with her free arm. "I'm starving," she answers, laughing a little, then pauses. "You know, Callen couldn't get me to laugh the whole time he was here, and you've been here for thirty seconds."

"Well, I feel special," Deeks says, putting a hand over his heart and feeling his heartbeat start to go up.

"Of course you are," she answers, eyes serious and voice warm, and he's so gobsmacked he almost doesn't know what to think.

"Would I be a terrible cliche if I kissed you right now?" he says, trying to tell if this is it, if this is the moment they finally happen, if this is banter, what is this, and-

"Oh, terrible," Kensi says, but her eyes are bright and she's sitting up straighter and she's closer to him and he decides, fuck all, he'd kiss her even if that's not what she means.

Deeks swoops in and most definitely does not make a little strangled noise as their lips touch. Instantly Kensi's mouth is open to his, and he pushes his advantage with his tongue. Her good hand winds its way into his hair and pulls him closer. One of his hands strokes against her neck, and her breath hitches, and oh, that's a nice thing to know about, he'll be using that.

"I can't believe," Kensi gasps against his mouth, "I had to get shot for this."

Confused and incredulous, Deeks pulls back just enough to look her in the eye. "You mean," he says, slowly, "that you - that I - we could've-"

In the background, Guy Fieri is prattling on about some restaurant, and there's someone crying in the hallway, and Kensi's arm is in a sling, and her ex-boyfriend is in the morgue. But right now, all he knows is that they are both colossally stupid sometimes, and that he loves her. Marty Deeks is in love with Kensi Blye, beautiful Kensi, fiery Kensi, perfect Kensi. This is his world, at this moment, and as he pulls her in and prepares to kiss the life out of her, he knows that this - this right here, right now - this is all he could ever want in the world.


End file.
